


Sick and Stubborn

by Asexual_Enjolras



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Asexual Character, Asexual Enjolras, Asexual Relationship, Asexuality, Asexuality Spectrum, Best Friends, Child Abuse, Childhood Friends, Combeferre Knows Everything, Courfeyrac Is A Little Shit, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enjolras Is Bad At Communicating, Enjolras Is Bad At Feelings, Enjolras Was A Charming Young Man Who Was Capable Of Being Terrible, Enjolras/Grantaire-centric, Eventual Enjolras/Grantaire, Grantaire Is Bad At Feelings, Hospitals, Illnesses, Les Amis de l'ABC Shenanigans, M/M, Minor Cosette Fauchelevent/Marius Pontmercy, Nursing, Past Abuse, Pining Grantaire, Platonic Relationships, Platonic Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-07-19 05:08:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19968523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asexual_Enjolras/pseuds/Asexual_Enjolras
Summary: When Enjolras is hospitalised following a "fall", his friends call the only person that can help whilst they are all overseas. Grantaire is reluctant to offer his assistance because he knows that Enjolras despises him and his presence.But as Grantaire helps Enjolras, he soon discovers that Enjolras needs more support than anyone due to his past.Follow Enjolras and Grantaire as they pine and argue and slowly discover their feelings for one another whilst Grantaire tries to nurse Enjolras back to good health.





	1. Chapter One

***

Grantaire rested his head down on his pillow at last, his eyes closing after lifting his feet up from the wooden floor below him. His neck stilled as he lay there and let out a heavy sigh. The crippling shirt that clung to his skin was evidence enough that he had had a long night. His breath slowed and softened as he thought of the amount of work he should have been doing instead of drinking down at the local student bar. He scorned himself internally for allowing himself to be so easy to convince. Alcohol was impossible for Grantaire to refuse. His hand ran through his hair and fell lightly against his face as he allowed himself to rest. 

It had been a day full of drinking and he was glad of the silence. Grantaire, of course, loved the atmosphere of the student bars. They allowed him to momentarily forget about the upcoming deadlines flooding in for his art pieces that he was still yet to start. He was never good at being on time. Not anywhere. Or for anything. He was utterly useless at time keeping. 

Under his pillow, his small phone began to vibrate. 

It startled Grantaire to open his eyes and sit up, frowning at the small device for interrupting his slumber time. He lifted his limp arm to his ear with a sigh. 

"This better be good, Courf." He said, his breath cold. 

"Yeah, sorry, I know what time it is in England but it's important. I wouldn't have called you if it wasn't." His friend sounded stressed, which wasn't an often occurrence for Courfeyrac. He was often very relaxed.

"What's happened?" Grantaire's eyebrows furrowed together in the middle of his forehead, his eyes feeling heavy as he tried to hold himself up and prevent himself from collapsing back onto his pillow. 

"It's Enjolras." Courfeyrac's voice sounded concerned and stern, making Grantaire's ears instantly prick at hearing the name. "He's had an accident." 

Grantaire froze, his eyes growing wide as he tried to process the words that he had just heard. He swalloeed hard, unable to speak. 

"And he's been sent to hospital but, obviously, he has nobody with him because we're all stuck here in America." Courfeyrac was rushing to get his words out now and Grantaire, still slightly dazed, was struggling to keep up with the information. "And I know it's a lot to ask but could you please visit him and get him anything he needs? You have the keys to our flat, he'll just need some clothes and stuff. Nothing too heavy, you know? I wouldn't ask if I didn't need you to do this but-"

"I can't." Grantaire said, almost involuntarily. 

"What - what do you mean you can't?" 

"Enjolras hates me." Grantaire said. 

And it was true, their blonde and perfectly-capable-of-looking-after-himself friend did despise him. He was the one person in their friendship group that Enjolras just tolerated out of his good nature and will. He was the perfect son of two rich, right-wing politicians. He was driven and inspired and well-educated. He was always so busy talking and promoting his ideals while Grantaire was pushing off his deadlines and university work. 

"No, he doesn't." 

"He does, Courf, Enjolras hates me." 

"Grantaire, he doesn't and you know it." 

Grantaire wanted to laugh at the idiocy of his friend's statement. Even if Enjolras didn't hate him - which he definitely did - Grantaire would never be able to believe that because he had no idea what it was in him that Enjolras could like. 

"Please, Grantaire." Courfeyrac pleaded. 

Grantaire retorted, failing. Enjolras needed him, he supposed. And even though he hated him, he would have to put up with Grantaire being the one to take him his stuff. Their friends were all away on residential. They were the only two left in the city. And Grantaire, much as he knew Enjolras would hate to admit it, was his only hope of getting his things for his hospital stay. 

"What happened to him?" Grantaire asked, his concern growing for the man he was so fond of. "Why is he in hospital?"

"Look, I have to go." Courfeyrac said, rushing him off the phone. "I'll call you later - thank you." 

"Wait-" Grantaire spoke to no avail as the line went dead. He threw his phone down, frowning and landing on his bed with a snort. "Typical." 

Grantaire's feet trailled straight to Enjolras, Courfeyrac and Combeferre's flat almost instantly. It was only a block away in a slightly more expensive Halls of Residence. He unlocked the door, entering with a light delicacy and wandered straight to the fridge to see what food they had in; he was starving and he was fully aware that Courf would not mind him taking some food for the road. He was doing him a favour, after all. 

He wasn't going to admit that he was also doing this because he loved Enjolras. Oh, no, definitely not.

He opened the door and smirked to himself when he saw Enjolras' oat milk and chickpea curry. He had promised himself that he would never be friends with a vegan once before. But Enjolras' reasons for being a vegan were admirable, much to Grantaire's dismay. He had given a pretty sturdy argument to something thay Grantaire had never really given much thought to before. And Grantaire, though he hated to admit it, liked that Enjolras cared so much for all sentient beings. 

Even if he was not one of them that he did care for. 

The door to Enjolras' room was unlocked for the first time and he assumed it was because he had had the accident and needed the room to be accessible for the ambulance service. Whenever the friends had visited this flat Enjolras' room was always been locked. Nobody was allowed to enter. Grantaire felt unsure about breaking into his privacy. 

He let out a small sigh before pushing the door open, preparing himself for an organised mess to unfold in front of his eyes. He was surprised when nothing of the sort appeared. Instead Enjolras' room was painted red, his signature colour, and it was slightly more chaotic than he had imagined. There were books everywhere about politics and injustice and slavery and famine. 

Typical Politics student. 

Grantaire also noticed that Enjolras had a little box in the corner of his room with letters in that hadn't been touched. And parcels and envelopes with his address and name written in fancy calligraphy pressed onto them. He was curious, of course he was, about who they could be from. But he brushed off the thought and packed a small rucksack with clothes, a toothbrush, books, pens, paper and a small vegan cereal bar that he thought Enjolras may want to eat later in the day. 

He smiled down at himself, knowing that he was bound to have forgotten to pack something that Enjolras would need.

***

Hospitals made Grantaire feel uncomfortable in his own skin, they always had. They were horrible places that he didn't care for that just reminded him of death. He followed the nurse through the doors, shivering at the mere lack of colour printed on the walls. Hospitals were so bland for no reason and he despised the idea of Enjolras being cooped up in here. 

"I must warn you, he is very weak." The nurse spoke, her voice coarse out of a lack of rest, Grantaire assumed. 

"Thank you." He said, walking into the room after she left. He studied the small private ward, his eyes landing on Enjolras. He had not known what to expect from their leader, he didn't know what was wrong with him after all because Courfeyrac hadn't had the opportunity to tell him. But Grantaire had so wished that he had so that he could have prepared himself for the sight in front of him. 

Enjolras looked unruly. 

He was sweating, his eyes closing in contest as he attempted to open them. His leg was strapped in a bandage, his toes bruised and his limbs flopping to the side of his limp and fragile body. 

And his face - oh, Grantaire hated to see him like this. His usually perfect nose was crooked and his cheekbone was bruised a cruel purple tone. 

"Courfeyrac called me." Grantaire cleared his throat, making Enjolras slowly force his eyes open. "He told me you'd need some stuff for your hospital stay." 

"Thank you." He said, simply. 

"It's all in this bag." He told him, placing it on the side. "I'll tell the nurse that it's here for you." He turned. "And I'll tell Courf that I've been by." He said. "See you." 

"Could you stay?" He coughed, still in a haze from the painkillers. 

The brunette stopped in his tracks, lost at the words he had just heard. There was no way he had heard that right, it was certainly the atmosphere of the hospital that was making him feel light headed himself. 

Or perhaps he was dreaming.

"Sorry, what did you say?" 

"Stay." He forced himself to say. "Please." 

It was excruciating for Enjolras to admit that he didn't want to be alone. He was in pain and he was tired of feeling so useless. Grantaire's presence would be nice. He didn't want to be alone. Not at all. 

Grantaire said nothing, confused but happy to help and sat down on the chair beside his friend. Enjolras closed his eyes, murmuring small words to Grantaire that resonated as 'thank you' to the smaller man. He smiled to himself, glad that he was able to help Enjolras, even in the slightest way.

***

"Thank you for doing this, R." Combeferre's voice was warm in Grantaire's ear as he placed the hospital phone to his ear. He grinned to himself. It wasn't really a chore to spend time at Enjolras' side, even if the man did hate him.

"It's fine."

"No, we owe you a lot. I'm just sorry that we're not there." He said. "I know he can be a handful when he's unwell." 

"He's not been too bad so far." Grantaire felt uncomfortable talking about Enjolras as though he was a child. But he had, truly been fine. "He's in a bit of a drugged up daze so he's being compliant with the nurses. And he's mainly just sleeping." 

"Oh, good. Enjolras hates hospitals. I remember last time we were there he was attempting to run away." Combeferre said. "And the time before that the doctor had to drug him so that he could sleep. We all know how much he hates to be touched by other people." 

Grantaire smiled at that, it was true. They were all aware of how much Enjolras hated to be touched by others. He always made a point of pulling his hand away if they so much as got a few inches close to brushing their hands close.

Grantaire wanted to ask why Enjolras had been to the hospital so much. Combeferre was his oldest childhood friend. And he had caught a quick glimpse of his hospital records when the nurse had come round to hand out some painkillers. Enjolras had been to hospital a lot more than other people. It wasn't his place to ask though and it certainly wasn't his business, so he decided against it.

"What actually happened?" Grantaire asked, addressing Combeferre in a serious tone. 

"Oh - he - he fell." He said, stammering. Combeferre rarely stuttered unless he was lying. But Grantaire was confused as to why he would need to lie about something this trivial. "At a protest. You know Enjolras, too ambitious for his own good." He masked his awkwardness with a little laugh. 

"Yeah." He said, unsure. 

"How's he doing?" 

"Fine. He's asleep at the moment. He's asked me to stay with him tonight so I will."

"Okay. Thank you." Combeferre said. "I have to go but we'll be back in a few weeks. Will you be able to keep us updated?" 

"Of course." Grantaire said. 

"Grantaire, thank you. Really." Combeferre was very fond of Enjolras, he was his best friend. They were often inseparable. And so this was probably killing him not being able to help him. 

"Bye, 'Ferre." He said. "And don't worry, he's in good hands." 

He placed the phone down. 

***

Enjolras fell to his knees, dropping his book and collapsing on the floor with a loud scream of pain. 

"What - what are you doing?" Grantaire raced to his side. "The doctor told you to stay in bed. You've broken your leg; you shouldn't be walking." 

"I know that." Enjolras pushed Grantaire off of him, scowling. Grantaire should know better than to touch him, even if he was trying to help. He shivered. "I don't need baby-ing." 

"Right. Sorry." Grantaire let go of his arm, jumping backward in a frenzy. He wasn't thinking, it was just a natural response.

Enjolras fell back into bed, feeling weak and discontorted at being such an invalid. He sighed, hitting his head on the wall behind him. 

"I didn't mean to snap at you, Grantaire." He said, softening his voice. "I apologise." 

Grantaire almost choked on his own laugh. Enjolras never apologised to anyone. It was insane that he would even think to apologise to Grantaire, of all people. 

"You must be joking." He scoffed. "You don't need to be sorry." 

"No, I do." Enjolras said. "You've been nothing but kind to me and I owe you a lot." Grantaire wanted to wake up from this joke of a dream now. This was getting absurd. "I didn't mean to sound ungrateful." 

Grantaire said nothing in return, again, speechless about what to say. He just stared at the blonde haired man before him in a haze. 

"I appreciate your being here, I really do." He said, his voice stable and serious. 

"It's not a problem." Grantaire said. "It's not like I have anything else to be doing." He muttered, nonchalantly. To which Enjolras gave a small snigger. 

"You must have something better to be doing than being here with me." 

No. He didn't. 

"Unless you count dodging coursework that's due in a week and drinking wine until you pass out then, no, I don't." 

"Do you not need to be doing your work?" 

Grantaire shook his head, making Enjolras' face drop to a serious tone. 

"I just - I wanted to finish my manifesto." He broke the silence after a few minutes. "For the student officer elections." 

Grantaire gave him a small smile. 

"You don't have to worry about that. You've got it in the bag. Nobody else is running." He shrugged. 

"I still have to try or there's no reason to succeed." Enjolras swallowed. 

"I could help you." Grantaire said, in a small voice. Enjolras could barely hear him, tilting his head and raising his eyebrows in an attempt to make him speak up. "Oh, nothing. I said nothing." 

"No, you said something. What did you say?" 

"It's not important." Grantaire dismissed him. "It was a stupid idea." 

"Why was it stupid?" Enjolras asked, genuinely smiling with a big, white grin. Grantaire had never in his life seen anything as beautiful as Enjolras' smile. And he was always glad to see him smiling. Especially now because it meant he was no longer in too much pain. "Why couldn't you help me?" 

"You heard me." He frowned. 

Enjolras sat there grinning, speaking in a low tone. 

"I'd appreciate your input." 

Grantaire almost stopped breathing at those words. It sounded completely absurd. Enjolras was a Politics student, the son of two of Britain's biggest politicians, and the brightest of their friends. He was ambitious and good natured and naturally gifted in education. Grantaire was not; he was an Art student with no ambition and a whole load of stupid ideas. 

"Enjolras - you - you're bleeding." He pointed down at Enjolras' leg, where a pool of blood had escaped from beneath the bandage and stained the bed. It was pooling out of his leg in floods, and Grantaire raced to press the emergency button. Enjolras' eyes widened as he paled in the face, his eyes closing as he fell into darkness. 

***

"Hi Marius, how's the trip?" Grantaire asked, sitting in the waiting room. Marius was rushing about on the other end of the line, his breathing heavy as he tried to find the others. 

"Yeah, yeah, it's good." He said. "How's Enjolras?" 

Grantaire smiled down at his feet, laughing at the fact that Marius was evidently making himself dizzy in the frenzy. 

"Resting." Grantaire replied, simply. 

"Oh, okay, I'll tell 'Ferre when I find him. I don't know where they all keep going." It was no surprise that he had lost them. "I was with Jehan and our tutor and then when I turned around for one second to speak to Cosette, they'd all vanished." 

"Then perhaps you should have kept your eyes on them." Grantaire taunted, making himself laugh. As if Marius would pass up a chance to speak to Cosette.

"Impossible." 

"I know, I know." Grantaire smirked. "Look, Joly is calling so I'll let you go." 

"Right, yeah, see you." 

"Hi, Joly." Grantaire said. "I was just-"

"Is he alright? Courf told me he's in hospital." 

Yeah, Grantaire is fine, he rolled his eyes. 

"Yeah, Enjolras is doing alright." He responded, deadpan. He knew better than to joke around with Joly because it'd only make the poor boy worry. "Though we could have used your medicine knowledge here." 

"Yeah, sorry. Stupid university trip." Joly said. "I don't know why were even here. The US have the same medical practices as we do in the UK. There's no difference apart from the price that citizens have to pay." 

"It's a free holiday, Joly. Just enjoy it." Grantaire heard Jehan shout from the other end of the line. "Ignore him, 'Taire." 

Enjolras and Grantaire were the only two whose courses didn't allow them to go on the International experience trip to the US. Joly had to go as part of his Medicine degree. And Combeferre, Marius, Jehan and Courfeyrac had to go as part of their Law degree to see and compare different judicial systems.

Bahorel, Bossuet and Feuilly all had the option to go as part of their History degrees.

Grantaire had no reason to go to the US as an Art student and Enjolras' Politics degree had allowed him to study just two Governments in the world and, of course, he had chosen the French and the British parliaments. 

"Pass me the ph-" Combeferre dragged the phone out of Joly's hand and spoke in a collected but concerned tone. "How is he?" 

"His leg started bleeding and he passed out. But he's fine now. He's resting again." Grantaire said, simply. 

"He'll never learn." He said, and Grantaire assumed he was shaking his head. 

"You talk as if he's in hospital a lot." Grantaire attempted. He could hear Combeferre clearing his throat as his nerves kicked in. 

"No, no, of course not. There would he no need for him to be - in hospital all the time." He let out a nervous and forced laugh.

Grantaire, though he liked him a lot, hated being lied to by Combeferre. He was incapable of lying to his friends. He was brilliant at debating and arguing court cases and he will make a brilliant barrister one day, possibly even the best second only to Jehan. That is, unless, he had to be lying to his friends. His voice would alter and he'd sound genuinely terrified. 

"Right." Grantaire said, brushing it off. 

It wasn't his business, after all. 

"Has he said anything about how it happened?" 

"No." 

"Ah, okay. Grantaire, thank you again for looking after him. I know he's trouble."

"You said this earlier." 

"I know. But it's important that you know how much me and Courf really do appreciate it." 

Grantaire wanted to tell Combeferre that it really wasn't an issue. If it was, it wasn't his issue and Enjolras would just have to put up with it. He may hate Grantaire but he was the only one here to help. So he couldn't exactly argue with him. 

"Look, it's 1am here so I'm going to go but, again, thank you, and keep us updated." 

"You need to stop worrying." 

"I'm just worried that you'll end up killing each other more than anything. Please try not to wind him up too much. He's delicate." 

"Of course not." Grantaire mused, smirking to himself. As if he would haunt Enjolras with his taunts at a sensitive time like this. "See you." 

"Bye, R." 

Grantaire put the phone down and made his way back to Enjolras' bedside, sitting down on the guest chair and resting his face in his hand on the desk side. He must have fallen asleep there.

***

"Mr. Enjolras, I need to take your blood." The nurse tried, startling Grantaire awake. Enjolras was struggling, refusing the nurse the entry into his vein. Grantaire furrowed his eyebrows, rubbing his eyes to help them focus on the scene playing out in front of him. "Please." 

"What's happening?" The doctor came over, his eyes stern. Enjolras frowned at him, pouting. Grantaire wanted to laugh at the expression painted on his face, his nose scrunched like a rabbit's and his mouth tied tightly shut. 

"He won't let me take a blood sample." 

"Emeric, you have to allow us to take your bloods. You know this. You know all of this." 

Grantaire took a mental note to remember to taunt Enjolras later about his name being Emeric. It was hilarious to him that his name could quite literally mean 'leader'. He was burdened with that for life. It was like it was fate. 

"Could you maybe talk to him?" The doctor asked, looking directly at Grantaire. "As his friend, maybe to put him at ease." 

Grantaire snorted. He couldn't comprehend what was happening. No way was he going to be able to talk Enjolras into doing anything he didn't want to, even if it was for his own good. 

"Apollo, I think you should let the nurse take your blood." He said, without even trying to sound persuasive because there would reallt be no point. 

Enjolras stilled, his shoulders relaxing as he looked Grantaire directly in the eyes. He frowned, his eyes scanning the brunette. 

"I don't think I can." Grantaire shrugged. "Sorry. He definitely won't listen to me." 

The nurse sighed, grumbling and moaning under her breath. 

"Having a fear of needles is perfectly natural. You're a nurse, you're supposed to be supporting your patient. Not moaning." Grantaire scowled, staring directly at the nurse. 

"I'm not afraid of needles." Enjolras said, in a small mouth. 

"What is it then?" She asked, her tone cruel. 

"Excuse me. You don't have to be so rude." He snarled back at her. Enjolras smiled, lightly. 

"I have a job to be doing." 

"You're clearly not doing it very well." Grantaire spat, his tone malicious. The blonde stifled a laugh, coughing as he watched Grantaire bicker with the nurse. 

"Could I put the needle in myself?" Enjolras asked, breaking the tension that had formed between his friend and the nurse. She turned to face him, her face disgusted at the question. 

"Why would you want to do that?" 

"Means he has control." Grantaire assumed. Enjolras looked at him, meeting his eyes and nodding. 

"Precisely." 

Grantaire took an accidental gasp in, almost choking on the realisation that Enjolras agreed with him on something. Even if it was something small. This never happened. 

"Fine." She handed Enjolras the needle. "But if you rupture your vein then it's not my fault."

Grantaire watched as Enjolras took the needle and inserted it into his own arm with ease, taking the blood and handing it to the nurse with the disgusting attitude with an accomplished smile. 

"Easy." He said. She rolled her eyes and walked out. 

"How did you do that?" Grantaire asked, involuntarily. He didn't mean for it to come out so forced and so inquisitive but he was genuinely curious about how Enjolras was able to put a needle in himself without any hesitation. "I mean - without killing yourself? Or without a pause to prepare?" 

"It's simple." Enjolras shrugged off the question. Grantaire assumed he had seen enough nurses do it if he had been to hospital as many times as his record said. "And I'm a Type-1 diabetic so I have to inject myself a lot." 

Grantaire let out a sigh of relief and a laugh.

Enjolras looked somewhat pleased with himself for making Grantaire snigger, it was something small but it was nice to know that Enjolras was able to have a laugh with Grantaire. 

"I just thought you were lucky." 

"Definitely not." 

"That's two things I've learnt today." Grantaire said. "You're a diabetic named Emeric." 

Enjolras' cheeks flustered a dark red tone, the blush covering the dark purple bruise on his cheekbone. He rolled his eyes and lifted them to look Grantaire in his blue eyes. 

"What's your first name? I've never asked."

"And you'll never know." Grantaire winked. 

"You know mine." Enjolras said. 

"And?"

"So it's only fair."

"Fairness doesn't come into it." He smirked. Enjolras laughed, a little laugh. "Apollo." 

"You are insufferable."

"You tell me that everyday." Grantaire replied. "Just not always with words." 

"Have you spoken to 'Ferre?" He changed the subject.

"I have." Grantaire said. "Which reminds me, I need to go and call them. They're all worried about you." 

"They always are." Enjolras replied. "But they needn't be." 

"I'll be back, I'll just go call them." 

"Please don't tell them anything that'll worry them."

Grantaire nodded.

"My name's René, by the way." He winked, walking out of the room and leaving Enjolras alone to process that information. 

***


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grantaire and Enjolras continue to get to know one another as Combeferre continues to fret over Enjolras' health.

***

"The nurse says that the doctor will be by to discharge you soon." Grantaire said, sitting down at the seat beside Enjolras' bed. The blonde was sitting up, his arms folded across his chest and tightly wrapped. "So I guess this is goodbye-" 

Enjolras blinked, cutting in.

"I thought that you were going to help-"

"Goodbye to the hospital." Grantaire smirked. He winked, seeing Enjolras flush a crimson tone again. He laughed, knowing the leader hated to admit to being wrong about butting in. "Of course I will help you get back to your flat, Apollo."

"You really know how to make me angry." He huffed, still hating the nickname. 

"It's a compliment, isn't it? Apollo is a God, surely that's a positive." 

"It is if I knew that you were being sincere about it. But you are incapable of sincerity." Enjolras snarled, turning his nose up at Grantaire. "Everything is a joke to you, even my passion for change." 

"That's not true." Grantaire said. "Pasta is no joke to me. I love that stuff." 

Enjolras sighed, rolling his eyes. Of course Grantaire liked pasta. It was easy and plain. 

"You are insufferable."

"And you are a misery but you don't see me complaining." Grantaire said. 

"You just did." 

"Only because you made me." He said, grinning. 

Enjolras hit his head on the wall behind him, hard. Grantaire was insufferable. But he had to admit, he had liked having him around the past few days because it allowed him to forget the amount of pain he was in. 

Not that he would admit that to anyone. 

Enjolras was never any good at admitting how he was feeling. But he was very relieved that he hadn't been left alone with his thoughts.

***

Grantaire helped Enjolras to his room, showing him into the flat by unlocking the door without letting go of Enjolras' hand. They had stayed in the hospital for two days and had both grown tired of being confined in a small, plain, white box room. Enjolras limped into his kitchen, using his walking stick for aid as Grantaire let go of his arm. 

His blood tests had come back normal and so the hospital were happy to let him leave, which made both of them really happy. 

"Are you hungry?" Enjolras asked. 

"No, no I'm fine. Thank you." Grantaire replied, smiling.

"It's the least I can do." 

"No, I'm not hungry. Thank you." Grantaire said, his voice as full of gratitude as he could manage. "Besides, vegan food isn't exactly for me-"

"We have bacon." Enjolras shrugged, with a small smile. Grantaire sniggered, his mouth curving at the sides in a sly manner. He had just walked himself into the perfect taunt.

"Isn't that against what you believe?" He teased, trying his luck. 

"Yes, but I'm not the one eating it so I don't particularly mind." Enjolras spoke in a level-headed tone.

Grantaire noticed a sparkle in Enjolras' eyes as he watched him get the frying pan out of the cupboard, struggling slightly. He still felt quite light headed, but he owed Grantaire a lot. The least he could do was make him some food.

"Honestly," he said, catching Enjolras as he wobbled on his feet. "I'm fine." He said, helping him to the sofa. "If you need food, I can make it for you." 

"No, thank you. I'm not hungry either." 

Grantaire lowered Enjolras down onto the sofa, their eyes interlocked. He felt like Enjolras was staring into his soul and it was making him feel completely uncomfortable. It was still completely bizarre that the blonde leader was allowing him to touch him. Enjolras never let anybody close to him. 

"Besides, not that you'd have known but I'm a vegetarian." Grantaire winked, sitting on the floor opposite the sofa. Enjolras rolled his eyes. 

"Don't mock me." 

"I - I'm not. I am a vegetarian." Grantaire had never told anyone because he had never had reason to before. He lived off of cheese and tomato toasties and pizza. But he, like Enjolras, hated the slaughter of animals for his food. He just loved cheese too much to go and make the transition to become vegan.

"Huh." Enjolras said. "I never had you down as the sort."

"No, nobody ever does." 

"Why are you a vegetarian?" He asked, tilting his head.

"Killing things for human pleasure and satisfaction just doesn't sit well with me." He shrugged. "Death doesn't sit well with me, especially when it's avoidable."

Enjolras looked at Grantaire and studied his expression. He was serious about this, he was sure about that. But it made no sense to him because Grantaire was a man that seemed to, on the surface, have no care for anything but alcohol. He was a cynic.

"You can't be serious." He said, in a cold tone. Grantaire just shrugged. 

"I'll leave it up to you to decide, oh great Apollo." Grantaire taunted, to which Enjolras just rolled his eyes. 

He limped over to the kitchen and stood in silence, contemplating what it could be that he could drink. He grabbed the kettle and attempted to fill it, his arm shaking as it filled with water. Grantaire could see him struggling and rushed up to his aid, taking the kettle from the blonde and placing it on to boil. Enjolras scoldered himself for being so weak and discontorted. He collapsed onto the sofa in a huff. 

"It'll just take time." Grantaire said. "That's what the nurse sai-"

"I know it will." He snapped, almost growling at the smaller man. Grantaire looked at him with a defensive look, his eyes narrowing. "Sorry." 

"You need to stop apologising, Apollo. It's only me." 

"You have helped me so much these past two days, I owe you." Enjolras said. "The least I can do is be kind to you." 

"You owe me nothing, Apollo."

"Would you please stop referring to me as though I am a God? I'm no such thing." 

Grantaire just laughed at the stupidity of the request. If anyone was a God amongst men, it was Enjolras. He was passionate and driven and inspired by so many things. He saw the good in things that other people could not and knew how they could be made even fairer for all. He was so caught up in helping other people and improving their lives that he struggled to take care of himself. That much was evident. 

"Of course not." Grantaire said. 

"I'm not a God, though." 

"Aren't you?" Grantaire tilted his head, handing Enjolras a cup of tea with oat milk. He hadn't even asked him what he wanted, just assumed. No sugar, he knew after studying him whenever he made tea in their meetings. He had always said that 'sugar is not necessary' because the oat milk is sweet enough, which Grantaire found adorable. Enjolras had a hard exterior, he put on an act that he was unaffected by normal things but he was definitely soft inside. Grantaire could see that. He was soft for his friends and for every person living in pain and suffering. He was soft for everyone except those in power that wronged their subjects and for everyone except Grantaire. 

Enjolras said nothing in response to Grantaire, he just stared at the tea in front of him in his hands. He had no idea what to say now, he was at a complete loss of words. Grantaire often had that effect on him, he was the only person that did. Because he was so obscure. 

"You must be tired." Enjolras broke the silence, taking a sip of the tea from his favourite red mug. 

Grantaire wanted to agree because he was. He could feel his eyes dropping by the second, but he shook his head. 

"I am fine." 

"Right - I was going to offer you the-" Enjolras stopped talking, stopping himself from finishing the sentence he had just started. Grantaire tilted his head, intrigued by what it was that the blonde was going to suggest. "I mean - if you like, you can always stay here." 

"Right?" 

"Only if you like, I just know that Combeferre will be calling you every now and then to check on me. I won't be replying to his messages because - well -" He held up his left hand, which was bandaged up. Enjolras was left handed. He was the only one in their group that was. "I can't exactly message with my hand in plaster." He said, shrugging. 

Grantaire nodded, taking in the information. 

"Besides, with the others away it just means that you will be alone." 

Grantaire nodded. He found himself trying to work out if Enjolras would prefer not to be alone. He came to the conclusion that he didn't. 

"It's entirely up to you, of course." 

"I'd like that." Grantaire nodded. He smiled. "I can run to my flat and grab some pillows and blankets and sleep on the floor." 

Enjolras raised an eyebrow, his blonde curls falling before his eyes as he shook his head.

"I have blankets. And I have pillows."

Grantaire said nothing and watched as Enjolras struggled to stand. He jumped up, offering Enjolras his hand. The blonde looked reluctant to accept, but took him by surprise and took hold of Grantaire's hand. He limped into his red bedroom and grabbed a red blanket from his bed, along with a pillow and a few other pillows and launched them onto the sofa. 

"Is that enough? I can grab you a thicker blanket from Courf's room if you would prefe-"

"No." Grantaire jumped straight in. "No, this is fine." He cleared his throat. He wanted to use Enjolras' blanket for selfish reasons; for the mere amount of his familiar scent that would linger on the fabric - no matter how odd or creepy that sounded. It would make him feel secure. "Thank you." 

Enjolras gave him a small smile. 

"Try and get some rest." He said. 

"You too." Grantaire replied as Enjolras closed the door to his room. He climbed onto the sofa and placed the blanket over himself, cosy in the thought that he was getting along with Enjolras at last.

***

"Hey, Enj." Combeferre cooed down the phone later in the evening as Enjolras stood in the kitchen. "How are you?" 

"Fine." He said, shrugging. He had no idea what else he could have said but it was clearly not enough because Combeferre continued to dig. 

"Is Grantaire still there?" He asked. 

"Yeah, yeah. He's staying here for a while until you get back." Enjolras said. "Sleeping on the sofa." 

Combeferre sounded as though he was nodding, or Enjolras just assumed he was.

"Does he know what happened?"

"No." 

"It might do you some good to talk about it with someone other than me and Courf, Enj." Combeferre said, his tone soft.

"Look, it is over with. I do not really want to talk about it anymore. They have done what they have and that is the end of it. It's alright. It's done." 

"You said that last ti-"

"'Ferre, it's over." Enjolras gritted his teeth, wanting to push the topic to one side. Grantaire shuffled in his seat, keeping his eyes glued to the television screen and attempting to block out the inquisitive thoughts that he was having about who 'they' could be and what 'they' could have done. "How is America?" 

Grantaire looked to Enjolras, who was pacing the room with his limp and evidently trying to stop Combeferre from mentioning the topic further. He felt his knee buckle as he collapsed onto the floor, Grantaire hopping up to help him. He took the phone from Enjolras' hand and said,

"Hey 'Ferre, sorry, Apollo's gone to grab the food from the takeaway man at the door so he'll call you back later." He said. "See you." 

He helped Enjolras get back to his feet and allowed the taller man to wrap his arm around his neck, Grantaire's own arm around his waist as he helped Enjolras to the sofa. 

"Thank you." 

"Well, we don't want him worrying." 

Enjolras looked at Grantaire with a smile. 

"He'll know you were lying because I don't eat food from takeaways." 

"Oh. I didn't think of that-"

"It's fine, I appreciate it. I'm sure we can put our heads together to make something up." Enjolras said, making Grantaire laugh. Their eyes lingered on the other for a few seconds longer than anticipated, Enjolras taking in Grantaire's unusual beauty for the first time and Grantaire basking in his usual beauty. 

"Was he trying to push you into talking about what happened?" Grantaire fished, averting his eyes from Enjolras' confusing gaze. The blonde shuffled. 

"Yes." He said, simply. 

"You don't have to talk about it unless you wish to." 

Enjolras felt his jaw drop at Grantaire's words. He had always had him down as someone that was insensitive about things like this, that the brunette would have no idea what to say in such a situation.

"I appreciate that, thank you." Enjolras grinned. He turned, opening the fridge door. "I'm going to make some food, do you want anything? I'm afraid it's all vegan if you don't want the bacon." 

Grantaire laughed. 

"I've never had vegan food before." 

"It's not to everyone's taste, I won't force you to eat it. We can order food if you want to."

"No, I'd like to try it." He smiled. 

Enjolras felt his eyes trailing on Grantaire as he walked into the kitchen to his side. 

"What do you recommend?" 

"I could make us a bolognese." He said. 

"Yes, that sounds nice." Grantaire replied.

***

"That - was actually really good." He said, taking a sip of the wine that Enjolras had poured him. He had refused to take the alcohol at first wanting so much to stay sober to help him but Enjolras had insisted. 

"You think so?" 

"I think you've converted me, of great Apollo." He smirked. Enjolras laughed, rolling his eyes. He saw Grantaire continue grinning, standing and taking the plate from him and offering to wash the dishes. Enjolras felt his chest grow tight, his breathing hitching. 

Grantaire was nothing like he had wrongly assumed. 

Then the phone rang and Grantaire raced to answer, his voice welcoming to whoever it was on the other end of the line. 

"Oh, hi." He choked. 

"Grantaire? Is Enjolras there?" 

"He is." Grantaire replied. "But he's busy washing the dishes." 

"Just put him on." 

"Fine." He laughed. "Calm down." He handed the phone to Enjolras, mimicking a talkative, moaning hand gesture. Enjolras snorted a little, closing his eyes as he shook his head. 

"How are you feeling?" Combeferre asked. 

"I'm still doing fine." Enjolras said. "You need to stop stressing about me and enjoy your time away." 

"How can I do that when I know that you and Grantaire are probably killing each other on the other side of the world?" Combeferre growled, his voice straining. 

"Actually, we are getting along fine." Enjolras spoke truthfully, his voice mousy in an attempt to avoid Grantaire hearing. 

"Oh, come on. I'm not stupid." 

"No, we are actually getting along." 

"Is he talking about me?" Grantaire asked, racing to Enjolras' side on the chair and bouncing down beside him, making Enjolras laugh. 

"He is." Enjolras winked, putting Combeferre on loud speaker.

"Look, all I am saying is that it's impossible for me to beliebe that you haven't strangled Grantaire yet. You have very low patience when you are unwell and you lash out all the time-"

"He hasn't once." Grantaire said, nudging Enjolras playfully. Enjolras felt himself snigger, but retorted in pain. 

"I'm too weak to strangle him, no matter how much I want to." Enjolras said, deadpan. 

He heard Combeferre sigh. 

"Look, last time this happened you were really grumpy. Just don't take it out on Grantaire because it's not his fault this happened. Me and Courf can take the brunt but he doesn't deserve it. It's not his fault that-"

"Yes, I know." Enjolras snapped now, cutting in before Combeferre could say anything else. "And I've apologised for last time." 

Grantaire felt the inquisitive thoughts returning, his mind racing as he attempted to come up with ideas about why Enjolras was always ill or hurt. He had never actually seen him cower or anything. But his hospital records didn't lie. 

"As long as you're both okay." 

"We are fine." Enjolras said, bluntly. 

"Right, well I'll ring later." 

Enjolras agreed before putting the phone down. 

"I wish he would stop fussing." Enjolras said, his usual tone returning. Grantaire crossed his legs, sitting with his face to Enjolras. 

"He's just worried about you." 

"I know that but - it gets so tiring." 

"I can see why you lashed out at him last time." Grantaire winked. 

"Yeah." Enjolras stood. "I'm going for a shower." He said, leaving Grantaire alone in the sitting room. He cursed Combeferre, they were getting on fine until he had called.

***

Enjolras left the bathroom with his curls falling damp against his forehead, his shirt clinging to his slender figure. He wore just a low cut vest, intending to put a jumper on over it. But he felt his leg buckle, his eyes growing fuzzy as he collapsed onto the wooden floor boards beneath his feet. 

Grantaire leapt up from his sleep, his eyes falling on Enjolras and racing to his side to help him up. 

"What happened?" He asked, placing his hand beneath his arm and lifting him up to stand towering him. 

He helped him to the sofa and lowered him down, noticing the pale scars that were laced on his back. They were faint and practically invisible but Grantaire could see them. He thought better than to ask, though. 

"I need - I need my insulin." Enjolras tried to lift his arm to point to his medicine bag but failed, his arm too limp to do so. Grantaire nodded, rushing to the small red bag and taking it to his side. He knelt down beside Enjolras, his eyes averting to the bag.

"I don't know what to do." 

"Insulin. Inject it-" 

Grantaire felt his heart stop. He couldn't inject Enjolras with a needle. Grantaire hated needles. He hated blood and he would certainly get it wrong. 

"Please-" Enjolras grabbed Grantaire's hand, faintly. His eyes crossed, his pupils dilating as he tried to cling to consciousness. 

Grantaire looked down at their interlocked hands and nodded, sucking up his nervous attitude and pulling the needle out of the small bag. He looked at it, feeling sick at the mere thought of it piercing Enjolras' skin. 

But he was desperate. 

He needed Grantaire and he wasn't going to let him down now.

"Okay." He said, taking a deep breath and holding Enjolras' hand tight. He pressed it down, feeling the needle go into his skin with ease. Enjolras' eyes opened, his mouth curving into a smile as he fell forward into Grantaire's arms. Grantaire didn't expect it and almost fell backwards, holding the blonde tight. 

"Thank you." He said, his breath warm against Grantaire's neck. Grantaire shivered, basking in the grasp of his Apollo. 

***

"Hello." Grantaire answered the call, his voice calm. Enjolras didn't bat an eyelid, knowingly aware that it was most likely to be Combeferre calling to check up on them again.

He loved Combeferre a lot. He was his best friend. But he was so stressful. He had absolutely no chill, which was nice because he knew that he was just concerned for his friend. But it was tiresome. And Enjolras despised getting sick because it meant that he would have to put up with it. 

"Sorry - who is this?" Grantaire asked, confused. Enjolras looked up, baffled too. "Oh, yeah, he's here." 

Enjolras frowned. 

"It is your Father." Grantaire handed him the phone. 

Enjolras paled in the face, his throat tightening. Grantaire had never seen him look so afraid. Enjolras shook his head, his eyes desperate for Grantaire to make an excuse - any excuse - to stop him from having to speak to him. 

"Er - sorry, he - he's in the bath." Grantaire stammered, his eyebrows furrowing in the middle. " Yeah, I'll get him to call when he's out. Thanks." He said, putting the phone down. 

"What did you say that for?" Enjolras growled, his words spat. 

Grantaire threw his arms up in surrender, unsure what he had done wrong. 

"What was I supposed to say?" He asked, innocently.

"Anything. Anything else." Enjolras said, his voice full of emotion. He looked hurt, like he was in pain at the idea of having to speak to his father. 

Grantaire knew they didn't get on. Enjolras was a revolutionary with left wing beliefs that all people should be treated equally and with fairness. And that the state should be brought to it's knees. And his parents were right wing politicians that worked for the monarch. 

"I - I cannot speak to him." Enjolras said, his voice coarse. He was still pale and Grantaire could have sworn that he was on the brink of crying. He had never seen Enjolras look so weak, even earlier when he was low on insulin. He had never seen him look so afraid. "Please, I can't."

"You don't have to?" Grantaire said, sitting down on the table and meeting his eyes. "If you don't want to - You don't have to." 

"You don't know my parents, Grantaire." Enjolras snapped.

"I know. I know I don't." 

Enjolras launched himself into Grantaire's arms again, sobbing into his shoulder and wrapping himself around him. Grantaire sank into the hold, holding Enjolras tight. He had no idea what it was that was bothering him but he was genuinely concerned for him. Enjolras was never this weak. Something must be seriously wrong. 

"Sorry - I - I don't mean to snap at you." 

Grantaire wondered if Enjolras ever apologised to Combeferre like this. He assumed he did. Because Enjolras still despised Grantaire and he was apologising to him. 

"You don't have to apologise to me." 

"Stop saying that." Enjolras pulled away. "You have been nothing but kind to me, Grantaire. And I am being ungrateful." 

"Yeah, but it is only me." He shrugged. "I'm not important, I just want to help you get better." 

"No, my attitude is inexcusable and you do not deserve it." Enjolras said. 

"Look, Combeferre has already made it perfectly clear that you get tight when you are sick. You've been through a lot, I don't blame you." Grantaire said. "I don't like being sick either."

"I - Grantaire-" Enjolras choked. "I am sorry if I ever made you feel inferior at our meetings." 

It took Grantaire by surprise, and he looked at Enjolras with a confused expression to match the feeling he had. 

"I never meant to make you feel like you don't belong. Or that your opinions aren't valued." 

"What - where has this come from?" 

"You have been nothing but good to me this past week and I don't deserve it. I have pushed you away time and time again because I'm not a good person and - and I apologise." 

"You don't owe me an apology." Grantaire said. If only the daft blonde knew just how much he meant to Grantaire. If only he knew how much Grantaire despised himself. Enjolras could never make Grantaire doubt himself because there was nothing to doubt. 

He was a nobody.

"But I do. I have been a terrible person to you. I misjudged you and I thought of you as nothing more than a cynic-"

"Well, you were right about that." 

"I used to think that you were incapable of doing anything right, or of believing in anything." 

"You were right." 

"No." Enjolras said. "I was cruel to judge you when I didn't know you at all." 

Grantaire wanted to laugh. This was utterly ridiculous. Enjolras was a positive and realistic, driven man with ideals and ideas that could change the world. And Grantaire was just a man that had fallen in love with a passionate blonde incapable of loving anything but equality. 

"Listen, I misjudged you and I owe you so much, Grantaire." Enjolras said. "The others get back sometime tomorrow and I just - thank you." 

Grantaire felt an ache twinge in his heart for some reason. Enjolras was right. The others would be back tomorrow and that would be the end of it. Things would go back to normal. He sighed, his face dropping. 

"I don't expect anything from you." Grantaire said, his heartbreaking. He knew that this was a temporary arrangement, he was fully aware of that. And he was lucky that it had gone this far. He had expected Enjolras to scoff in his face when he arrived at the hospital. 

"Grantaire." Enjolras said, his voice dark. He stood, his eyes staring at the smaller man. He looked so deflated and Enjolras wanted to tell him everything that he was feeling - to tell him that he really did appreciate him and his friendship and that he'd like to stay as close as they had been. He wanted to tell him that he admired him and that he had really helped him and that he didn't want this to be over - that he wanted to get to know him more than anything. 

But nothing came out. 

"I'll see you tomorrow." 

"Yeah, see you tomorrow." Enjolras agreed, feeling deflated at his inability to express his feelings.

He had always been incapable of telling people how he felt. He could never find the words and the idea of being laughed at haunted him. He couldn't let people in. He couldn't let them in because then they could hurt him. And that wasn't allowed. 

So he never did. He remained cold and collected and driven by nothing but justice. 

But he wanted that to change.

Needed it to if he was to be free of his weaknesses.

***


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjolras confides in Combeferre as they finally return back home and find Enjolras and Grantaire to have become close friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!
> 
> Thank you for reading! And for your patience! 
> 
> I hope that this chapter was worth the wait. I really enjoy this story and I can't wait to see it grow. 
> 
> Enjoy!

*** 

Combeferre unlocked the door and raced into Enjolras' room, pushing his door open with such force that it nearly came off of the hinges. Grantaire sat up, quickly and rubbed his eyes. He looked at the clock, confused. It was 3am in the morning. Courfeyrac walked in behind him, holding all of their bags and dropping them to his feet. 

"He wouldn't help me up those stairs, can you believe that?" He said, catching his breath. Grantaire looked at his friend, confused. "Sorry we woke you, he wanted to see Enj." 

Grantaire laughed a little. That didn't surprise him. Courfeyrac studied the flat, it was completely spotless. He wondered if Grantaire had really been staying there, his friend was completely useless at keeping things tidy. 

"Did he make you eat his slop?" He pointed to the recycling bin that was full of vegan packaging. 

"Oh, no. I chose to." 

"Blimey." Courfeyrac frowned. "What's gotten into you? You normally live off meat-"

"I'm a vegetarian." Grantaire rolled his eyes. 

"But you're forever living off microwave bolognese-"

"Vegetable bolognese." He stepped up.

It always made him laugh that his friends knew nothing about him. But he was glad he wasn't a vegetarian that pushed for others to be one either. 

Combeferre had his arms wrapped tightly around Enjolras, not wanting to let go. The blonde stifled a laugh, working out of his arms. He limped into the living room and gave Grantaire a wide eyed, fed up expression. 

Grantaire smirked down at his feet. 

Combeferre followed his friend to the sofa, putting a pillow down before he sat down. Grantaire could see the despair on Enjolras' face, his eyes rolling at the mothering he was receiving from him. He sniggered. 

"Have you been on top of your insulin?" 

"Yes." 

"So you didn't pass out at all?" 

"No." Enjolras replied, almost instantly. "Well - once. But Grantaire took care of it." 

"You need to keep on top of it. You know full well that you need to look after yourself." 

Enjolras lay back, putting his hand to his head. 

"You've been home for 5 minutes and you've already given him a headache, 'Ferre." Courfeyrac said. "You treat him as though he's five." 

"He needs looking after." 

"He's only broken his leg." Courfeyrac laughed, which made Grantaire laugh too. 

Combeferre shot Courfeyrac a warning glance, his eyes narrowing. He glared at him, his mouth twitching at how insensitive his friend was being about the situation. They both knew fine well what Enjolras had had to go through and what had caused him to break his leg. So Courfeyrac's comment was completely unjustified. 

"I best be going." Grantaire said, feeling a small tinge of frost run down his spine at the tension. 

Enjolras sat up, looking over to the man with the brown curls. 

"Already?" 

"Yeah, well, you have your friends back now so you don't need me." Grantaire spoke sincerely. He truly believed that and Enjolras hated the fact that he couldn't tell him otherwise. He hated that he couldn't voice the fact that he wanted him there more than anyone else. 

He just stayed silent. 

"Thank you again, 'Taire." Combeferre said, his voice laced with gratitude. "We'll make it up to you." 

"It was no trouble, really." 

Courfeyrac smiled down at his feet, knowing that Grantaire probably liked every moment he got to spend with Enjolras alone. It was a shame that he had to see it end. He knew Enjolras wouldn't make any effort to try and keep the contact going with him. And he was fully aware that the two of them had been getting on because neither of them seemed frosty with the other.

"See you later." Grantaire said, walking out of the flat. 

Enjolras felt his chest deflate. 

"How did you manage to keep this flat tidy when he was staying here?" Courfeyrac asked. 

"It was Grantaire, he did all the cleaning." 

"Wow." 

"You better have been nice." 

"He's not a child, 'Ferre. Bloody hell." 

"Look, I don't need you to mother me, okay? I'm perfectly fine dealing with this. Can we just move past it?" Enjolras asked, genuinely hoping that they could just forget about it.

Combeferre nodded, knowing that it was 3am and they were all tired. But he had no intention of forgetting about what had happened to Enjolras and why it had happened. 

"Come on, let's get some rest. All of us." Courfeyrac said, helping Enjolras up. The blonde pushed him off of him, his eyes darting to the floor. 

"I can do this myself." He said, cold. 

He wouldn't admit it to his best friends but he had been happy for Grantaire to help him and touch him. He didn't know why and he couldn't explain it but he did. He liked having him around. And he missed him already.

He fell onto his bed, feeling his eyes close as he drifted into sleep. 

***

Joly and Marius lay down on the table, Joly staring up at the ceiling fan and watching as it spun around. He bolted upright, feeling sick at the mere idea that it could fly off and cut his neck. He shivered. Marius lay there dreaming, imagining Cosette's beautiful face he he heard Enjolras stumble into the room, his limp still no better.

"Marius, wake up." He clicked his fingers as he walked passed. 

"Sorry, I was thinking of Cosette." He said, still dazed. He straightened his tie, his eyes blissful as he imagined her bonny blue eyes. "She is still an angel, and she spoke with me today." 

"Marius, we have important matters to discuss." Enjolras snarled. 

Joly sat up, watching as Enjolras completely dismissed Marius' affection for the girl.

"We have only just returned from our holiday, can we not tell you about it?" Bahorel asked, his legs dangling from the table. Enjolras looked at him with disgust in his eyes at the mere idea of talking about anything that wasn't related to social justice and change. 

"Yeah, and you are still a little weak. We should take this week off." Feuilly said, just concerned for his friend. 

"May we talk of Cosette?" Marius asked, his mouth curving into a smile. 

Grantaire wanted to laugh but did not, he watched as Enjolras grew flustered in the face. The man hated love and he hated affection. That was always obvious. Enjolras snarled, turning his nose up at Marius.

"People are dying because they do not have enough money to live, or food to eat." He sniped. 

"But Marius is in love." Grantaire grinned, his toothy smile making Enjolras frown. It was hard for him to be mad at Grantaire now and he hated that he was incapable of speaking out against him following his kindness. He just frowned, which made Grantaire laugh even more. 

"I am, I really am." Marius was incapable of seeing Grantaire's jest. He was joking. He just wanted to wind Enjolras up. 

"Marius, you aren't a child." Enjolras said, his tone harsh. "Please do leave if you would rather speak of Cosette. We are here for serious matters and nothing else." 

"But it is a serious matter, it's all he can think about." Grantaire was always winding Enjolras up, and the two of them would often get into heated arguments and debates about it. But Enjolras just looked at him, his face plain. "He's in love." 

Enjolras threw his book down, sighing. 

"Alright, Grantaire, do entertain us." 

"Oh no, it is Marius that wants to speak of love." 

Enjolras felt his heart stop as Grantaire met his gaze. They both stood there, staring at one another, unable to move for almost a minute before Grantaire broke the gaze. 

"Are we really going to listen to this?" Bossuet grumbled. They all hated hearing about Marius and his love for a girl he barely knew. 

"Well, Grantaire seems to think we should." Enjolras said, deadpan, his eyes still fixed in the smaller man.

"You are the leader, Apollo." Grantaire winked.

Enjolras shook his head, his curls bouncing as he limped over to Grantaire, breathing inches away from his face as the others averted their attention to Marius. 

"What are you doing?" Enjolras asked. "I thought we were friends now." 

Grantaire almost choked. Enjolras wanted to be his friend? That was new. 

"I was joking." He was. He didn't expect them to speak to one another how they had been the past few days. That was just because he was weak from his fall. 

"Grantaire, it's not funny." Enjolras said, his teeth gritted. He wasn't mad at Grantaire for anything in particular, though. He was mad at himself for being incapable of speaking to the man that he longed to speak to. 

"I won't taunt you anymore then." Grantaire said, grinning. Enjolras shook his head, growing more frustrated by the second. 

"You really know how to irritate me." 

"I do, yes." Grantaire winked, nudging him playfully. Enjolras rolled his eyes. He wanted to hate him. He used to be able to remain annoyed at him. But there was something about the way that Grantaire's eyes glistened that made it impossible for Enjolras to remain angry at him. 

"You are insufferable." 

"I know I am." Grantaire smirked again, blinking. 

Enjolras stared at him, shaking off all thoughts of wrapping his arms around the smaller, irritating man in front of him. 

"Back to the subject at hand." He clapped his hands, leaving Grantaire alone. 

He watched as Enjolras started to rant about the inequality in the country as he often did, with so much passion. He felt a shiver run down his spine as he grinned at his beauty and ambition. If Grantaire didn't know how unwell Enjolras was, he would never have guessed it.

He simply was perfect. 

***

Grantaire crossed his legs, sitting down on the floor and looking up at his friends. Marius lay beside him, his eyes focused on nothing but the messages on his phone. Grantaire assumed them to be from Cosette because Marius was incapable of speaking to another person via text. He rarely even used his phone. He hated technology. But he would do anything to speak with his beloved. 

Joly was busy microwaving popcorn ready for the movie as Feuilly melted the chocolate for the strawberries and bananas. 

"This is a lot heavier than I expected it to be." Bahorel said, dropping the takeaway down onto the floor in front of the TV. Combeferre and Enjolras were always reluctant to host movie nights in their flat because there was always a lot of waste and the smell of the food would linger for days, which made Enjolras' stomach turn. 

"Not on the rug-" Enjolras rushed over, his limp slowing him down as he fell onto the floor and moved the greasy boxes from their rug. 

"Relax, this is your night." Courfeyrac said. "We can tidy tomorrow." He offered Enjolras his hand, to which Enjolras refused. 

Grantaire smirked. They were all celebrating Enjolras getting the student leader role in the election. Grantaire had no doubts that he would have got the opportunity. Granted, he was the only one running, he hadn't forgotten about that, but if anyone deserved it - it was Enjolras. 

"What are we watching?" Marius asked, sitting up. 

"Enjolras' favourite film." Combeferre said. "And if you don't know what that is then you seriously should reconsider your friendship." 

Grantaire knew, of course he did. 'Of Mice and Men' was Enjolras' favourite book. John Steinbeck's books were his favourites. He loved 'Grapes of Wrath' too. He liked reading about the American Dream and the inequality of the country in the Great Depression. And his friends had wrongfully assumed that he would enjoy the film. Grantaire knew he hated it but tolerated it out of kindness. 

He shuffled over to Enjolras, nudging him. 

"Excited?" 

"Of course." Enjolras said, half-hearted. He smiled as Grantaire met his gaze. 

"You could tell them that you hate the film. Then we could watch something else." Grantaire said. Enjolras felt his chest deflate as he realised that Grantaire was the only person in the room that worked out how much he despised the film adaptation of his favourite book. 

"It makes 'Ferre happy." 

"Yeah, but it makes you unhappy." He teased. Enjolras laughed. 

"It's just a film." 

"A fucking terrible one." 

Enjolras snorted, resting his head back against the chair behind him. Grantaire smiled, knowing he had made his Apollo laugh. 

The film was excruciating. None of the friends enjoyed the film, they just started talking about how much had changed since the Great Depression and the inequality back then. Enjolras was particularly interested in Crooks, the black stable hand who was well educated but only seen as valuable as a tender for horses. 

"I think my favourite character is Curley's Wife." Bahorel smirked. 

Curley's Wife was a beautiful woman who wanted to be an actress but married a man who was cruel and cold. She flirted with the men on the ranch as a way to make herself feel better. 

"Of course you do." Jehan said, taking a slice of pizza and eating it. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

"Oh come on, a vulnerable, beautiful woman? Of course you love her." 

"She is very beautiful-"

"She was a metaphor for the women of the world. Women were pushed aside by men and seen as nothing else but objects to be used for sexual relations and marriage." Enjolras said, clearing his throat. Grantaire bit his lip, knowing how passionate he was about this. "She shouldn't be sexualised in this film. Her story was tragic and her struggles are still prominent in today's society." 

Marius sat up, eating his strawberries and chewing loudly. 

"She cheated on her husband." He said. 

"She never once cheated. Her husband made no effort to make her feel valued. She was a talented woman that was thrown away by society. Women are still facing the same issues now." Enjolras stated, his voice full of passion. "She was abused." Combeferre felt a twinge in his heart as Enjolras' voice cracked on that word. "Thanks for coming and for celebrating my promotion but - I'm tired." 

Enjolras tried to stand. Grantaire stood, offering his hand to help him. 

"Oh, Grantaire, just stop." Enjolras pushed him away. "I don't need your help." 

Grantaire frowned.

"You are a cynic. We are not friends. I do not need your help. Have you got that?" He snarled, his eyes narrow. Enjolras limped away, his mind racing as he slammed his bedroom door shut. He collapsed onto his bed, feeling his heart shatter.

Combeferre made his way over to Grantaire, putting his hand onto his shoulder. 

"He had some bad news." He tried to justify Enjolras' behaviour but fell flat. There was no excuse for the way Enjolras treated Grantaire. No excuse at all.

"I get it. I know why he's cruel to me. And it's fine. I don't expect anything from him, 'Ferre. It's completely fine. I'm nothing anyway." Grantaire shrugged, turning.

Combeferre sighed. 

"His dad got in contact today. Enjolras is going through a tough time." 

"It's fine, you don't have to explain for him." Grantaire said. He understood. He did. He had got his hopes up far too high when Enjolras was being kind to him. Grantaire was stupid to believe that Enjolras could actually like him as a friend. He was being stupid. 

"No, you don't understand." Combeferre said. 

"I do. And it's fine."

"Enjolras' parents abuse him and-" Combeferre let out, making Grantaire freeze in his position. He stared at Combeferre and waited for him to laugh or say it wasn't true. Combeferre wasn't thinking about it before it came out but his mouth. Then he collapsed as he realised what he had just said. He scorned himself, watching as Grantaire turned to him with his eyes burning into his soul. "I - you can't breathe a word of this to Enjolras. But his parents hurt him and he's going through a lot with that at the moment." 

Grantaire said nothing. He felt completely numb. It all made sense now; why Enjolras was always in hospital, why he had been so afraid of speaking to his father on the phone, why he was so cold towards his friends and why he was incapable of speaking about the subject. 

"I know it's not my place to tell you but - that's why he's so short. Explains why he's so useless when speaking to you."

Grantaire wanted to run into Enjolras' room and give him an everlasting hug. He didn't deserve abuse. He didn't deserve it at all. Nobody did, but least of all Enjolras. 

"I know it's a lot to take in but he was really opening up to you last week. He told me you were getting on." Combeferre said. "Could you try and speak to him? He needs a friend." 

"I - he won't speak to me about this." 

"He cares for you a lot more than he lets on." 

Grantaire thought it sounded absurd. But he wasn't in the mood to argue with Combeferre.

"I'll see you tomorrow." Combeferre smiled. 

Grantaire nodded, backing out of the flat and standing in the corridor with a heavy heart. He sighed, knowing his Apollo was struggling and there was nothing he could do. 

***

'Hey Apollo, I haven't seen you around these past few days and I was wondering if you're feeling okay.' 

Grantaire stared at the words he had written with a sigh. He couldn't send that. He sounded ridiculous. And Enjolras would never open up to him about this. 

'Hi Apollo, I'm sorry about the other day.'

He licked his lips, frowning. Grantaire was full of self loathing, he always had been. And he knew that he deserved every bit of anger put his way from the blonde. But Combeferre seemed to think that he could help. And he wanted to at least try to help the man that he loved. 

He pressed send. 

Grantaire didn't expect Enjolras to reply. And he certainly didn't expect him to reply so fast. Enjolras hated mobile phones. He was never on his. He much preferred his Political books and his laptop. 

'You have nothing to apologise for, Grantaire.' 

Was what Enjolras had replied. Grantaire stared at the words with furrowed brows. How was he supposed to reply to that? He lay back on his bed, hitting his head on the wall behind him and scolding himself for being so utterly useless. 

Then his phone buzzed and he leapt up, reading the next message with confusion:

'I owe you an apology for the way I acted toward you.' 

Grantaire wanted to laugh. It was completely absurd that Enjolras was apologising to him after the things he had been through. 

Grantaire wanted to tell Enjolras that he understood why he acted that way. But he couldn't. He had promised Combeferre. He couldn't betray his trust like that. 

'Can I come and see you?' Enjolras messaged again. Grantaire felt his breathing hitch as he replied,

'Of course you can.' 

It took just ten minutes for Enjolras to turn up at Grantaire, Marius and Bahorel's flat. He unlocked the door and welcomed him in, showing him to his bedroom. It was pleasantly tidy; not as tidy as Enjolras' but tidy and organised all the same. He had paint everywhere, and the walls were covered in canvasses scribbled with different tones of green paint. And one that Grantaire had painted inspired by a speech that Enjolras had delivered once, a dark red canvas with white patterns and light red tones of freedom. 

"I missed you." Enjolras said, kicking his foot behind his leg. "I mean - I missed speaking to you." He blushed, correcting himself after sounding so ridiculous. 

"I missed you too, Apollo." Grantaire smiled. 

Enjolras sat on his bed, crossing his legs and he studied the room that he sat in. Grantaire watched him, hoping he didn't realise what had inspired his red canvas: praying to a God he didn't believe in that he didn't ask.

He sat down beside Enjolras. 

"I - I misunderstood you before last week." Enjolras said, speaking in a serious and low tone. His eyes glistened, looking Grantaire in his blue eyes. "I was cold toward you for no reason and I've really liked getting to know you better." 

Grantaire smiled, taking hold of his hand. Enjolras jolted a little, surprised. But then he laced his own fingers into Grantaire's.

Enjolras then felt himself fall forward, his body incapable of stopping his mind from this. His lips fell to Grantaire's, his mouth moving in perfect symphony with the smaller man's. Grantaire was taken aback, his mind unable to comprehend what was happening and so unable to put a stop to it. He couldn't, didn't want to. 

Then he pulled away, finally. And took a deep breath in to catch it. 

"What-" 

"Sorry-" Enjolras backed away, hitting the wall with his head as he walked backwards. Grantaire moved forward, his eyes studying his face. Enjolras looked like he wanted to be sick, like he had just seen a ghost. 

"What are you apologising for?" Grantaire let out a small laugh, unable to do anything else. 

"I - I didn't mean to do that." 

"It's fine." Grantaire said. "I don't mind." 

"No, I mean - that was completely unacceptable." 

Grantaire didn't say anything incase he said the wrong thing. Enjolras was shaking. 

"You didn't consent and I - I'm not thinking straight." 

"Apollo, it's fine." He said. He placed his other hand onto Enjolras' shoulder. 

"I like you, Grantaire." Enjolras felt his heart beat faster than it ever had before. He had never let himself break down his barriers like this before. But it felt completely necessary. "I really like you." 

Grantaire felt like combusting. 

"I don't know what that means - but I like you." He continued to ramble. "I do like you. I like you a lot. But I can't - I can't be your boyfriend." Enjolras said.

Grantaire wanted to say something, to say anything, but he couldn't find his voice. His mind was incapable of thinking coherently. 

"Love isn't something that I know. I've never known love. And I couldn't ever give you what you deserve." 

Grantaire knew what he meant. But he couldn't say anything about it without betraying Combeferre's trust. He just nodded. 

"I - I have to go." He stood, stopping at the door. "I'm sorry. I should go." He rushed out of the room, leaving Grantaire alone again. 

He was completely confused. 

***

Enjolras burst into the flat, his breathing heavy from running the whole way back. 

"You like Grantaire." Combeferre said. He could see it. Enjolras was incapable of hiding anything from him. He didn't want to have this conversation and he had made that perfectly clear by rushing the words he had spoken. "What do you think is wrong with that?" 

Enjolras scoffed, his mouth twitching. Combeferre was a smart man, was he really that dim about this? He sat down, catching his breath. 

"I can't give him what he deserves." He cried.

"And what is that?" Combeferre asked, pushing his limits. He knew how much Enjolras was hating this. 

"Love. Normality. I - I'm not normal." Enjolras closed his eyes, pushing his head back against the back of the chair. He felt completely weak and drained talking about this. He had bottled his feelings up for so long that he didn't want to talk about them.

"Enjolras." Combeferre spun his legs around so that he could see Enjolras. "Grantaire loves you. He always has." Combeferre said. "You are the only person that can't see it but I promise you, he would accept anything. He adores you." 

"He is a cynic." 

"But he believes in you." Combeferre said, without holding back. 

Enjolras felt a lump form in his throat. 

"He believes in nothing-"

"Nothing but you." Combeferre said. 

"I - I'm not capable of love." He said. "I don't know what love is." 

"Does anyone, really?" 

Enjolras wanted to scream. His parents had taken so much from him already. They had taken his dignity and they had stolen away his hard. They had hardened him against the world and taught him to be headstrong and sure of what to do. 

But Grantaire had softened his mind. He had struck a chord in his heart that he didn't think was possible. 

"You - don't understand, 'Ferre." Enjolras hit his head against the back of the chair. 

"That doesn't define you, Enj." Combeferre sighed. "It doesn't make you who you are."

"No, but it does mean that I can't be the person that he deserves." 

"You already are the perso-"

"I don't want to hear it, Combeferre. You don't need to lie to me. I get it. I'm too headstrong and driven. My Father tells me all the time. I'm not normal, I get it. I'm not the son that they wanted. I'm too passionate about the wrong things and it means I can't love." 

"But you do love, Enjolras." He said. "You love more than they ever can. You believe in a better world, a world without people like your parents."

"Grantaire doesn't know anything about me." 

"He knows enough." 

"He doesn't." Enjolras sighed, closing his eyes. Combeferre sighed, too. He didn't know what to say now. They both sat in silence for a while, Combeferre thinking about what to say.

He wanted to say so much, that Enjolras deserved so much more than his parents and he had inspired him to be a better person. Enjolras had grown up surrounded by hate and discomfort. But he had grown to be a loving, admirable and driven man.

"Grantaire knows what your parents do to you." He screeched, gritting his teeth and hitting himself in the face at being so stupid. He had betrayed Enjolras' trust by telling Grantaire.

Enjolras just looked at him, his face expressionless. 

"I know it wasn't my place and - and I'm sorry. But he-"

"It's alright." He said. "Really."

And there it was again. Enjolras' calm and accepting nature that he had developed despite his parents' wrath and hatred. 

"It's not. It's not okay at all. I betrayed you-"

"Honestly, you did me a favour. And I know you did it for the best." Enjolras smiled, giving Combeferre a light tap on the back. 

Combeferre straightened his glasses, astonished at how easy he had taken the betrayal. 

But it was no surprise, really. Enjolras was a soft man. He was simple and accepting. 

"And you are right. I should speak to Grantaire tomorrow." He said, heading to bed. 

"Night, Enj." 

"Goodnight 'Ferre." He smiled.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so excited to write the next chapter. Thank you all so much for all of the kudos and comments. I appreciate them beyond what I can write. 
> 
> Thank you. I hope that my next chapter is worth the wait.


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for bearing with me. I've been so busy but here's the final chapter of this fiction! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

***

Enjolras' eyes stung, the tears picking his cheeks as they fell. He collapsed against the door, his legs no longer able to hold him. He slid down the door frame, closing his eyes and picturing a happier time. He hit his head against the wood, his curls bouncing as he screamed in pain. 

Grantaire couldn't get to the door fast enough, he rushed to unlock the door, not even thinking to put a t-shirt on. He felt Enjolras fall against his feet as he opened the door, kneeling down to face his Apollo. Enjolras was shaking, his eyes flooding. He let out a small cry, his eyes crossing. Grantaire pulled him into the flat, shutting the door and pushing his head against Enjolras'. 

"What happened?" 

"I'd rather forget it." Enjolras choked, his voice harsh and full of hurt. 

Grantaire felt his fists clench. Enjolras' parents didn't deserve to breathe. They didn't deserve anything. They certainly didn't deserve a son as brilliant and bright and passionate as Enjolras. They deserved absolutely nothing. 

Grantaire helped Enjolras into his room. He was ashamed at the mess but he assumed that Enjolras would not mind this now. He cradled him in his arms, trying to make him feel safe and secure. He didn't know what to say, he didn't want to say the wrong thing. So he remained silent, just holding the blonde tightly. Enjolras was shaking, his lip quivering. 

"I didn't know where else to go." He sobbed, trying to control his tears. He took a deep breath in. He hated the fact that he had allowed himself to breakdown like this. He never broke down. 

Enjolras never cried. 

"You are always welcome here." Grantaire held his hand, stroking the hair from his eyes with his free hand.

"I'm - I am alright." Enjolras sat up, taking a deep breath in and composing himself. He gave Grantaire a small nod, then swallowed the lump in his throat. "Combeferre told me that he -"

Grantaire stared at him, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the beauty of Enjolras. It was astonishing to him that the blonde leader was allowing him to sit so close, to hear his deepest secrets. It felt unnatural and immoral. 

"I am glad that he told you." Enjolras said. "I wanted to tell you myself, but I couldn't find the words." 

"You don't have to explain yourself to me." 

"I'm glad that he told you." Enjolras said, deadpan. He had stopped shaking as much now, but he was still trembling slightly under Grantaire's touch.

"I - I'm glad." Grantaire tilted his head in confusion.

"I like you." He said, under his breath. Enjolras' voice had never been so quiet, he had never been so nervous. And it took him by surprise that he would repeat the same words from yesterday after running away so cowardly. 

"Excuse me?" Grantaire asked, genuinely not hearing what he had said. No matter how much Grantaire dreamed, he never thought that Enjolras would say those words anyway. He needed to be sure.

"I like you." He said, his voice soft. 

Enjolras looked at Grantaire, his welcoming blue eyes piercing into Grantaire and warning his heart. He was smiling, though his nose was still stained crimson from the blood. His sharp cheekbones were bruised purple again but, to Grantaire, he still looked perfect. 

"I'm glad that we are friends too." Grantaire smiled. "You don't know how much it means to me that you are speaking to me-"

"I never meant to make you feel like you didn't belong. I never knew how to approach you and I - I'm sorry." 

"It's fine. We're friends now. And I'm glad. We're getting on. We are good friends-"

"I think I'm in love with you."

The words came out faster than Enjolras had intended. And he almost choked at the idiocy of it. Of course, Combeferre had told him that Grantaire loved him too. But he couldn't comprehend that. He felt his cheeks flush a crimson tone, matching that on the cuts on them. 

Grantaire felt sick. He felt like he had entered a nightmare where these words would be ripped away from him again, like he would fall into a state of reality and Enjolras would go back to hating him. 

And as much as he wanted that to be the case so that he didn't ever have to witness his beloved Apollo in pain again, he couldn't let go of the idea that this was the reality. 

"That - that didn't come out the way that I intended." Enjolras looked down at his thumbs. "But I'm not Marius - I don't understand what I'm feeling and I don't like it." 

Grantaire felt a twinge in his heart. There it was. The reality. Of course Enjolras wouldn't want to be in love with him. 

"I can't give you what you deserve." Enjolras said, continuing to speak. Grantaire blinked. 

"Ex - Excuse me?" 

"Grant - René, I have never known love. Not really. Not the normal kind, anyway." Enjolras said. 

"First names, huh?" Grantaire smirked, his lips twisting. "Emeric." 

"Do not taunt me." Enjolras said, his voice stern. And if Grantaire wasn't glaring at his face, he'd have felt terrible about his joke. But Enjolras' face was soft, he was smiling. 

"Be serious." 

"I am always serious." Grantaire winked. 

Enjolras sighed, hitting his head against the wall as he furrowed his eyebrows. 

"You infuriate me." 

"You have said before." Grantaire gave him a small nudge. 

Enjolras laughed, a genuine giggle forming in his throat. He fell forward, his forehead falling against Grantaire's, their noses touching. 

"You are not defined by the abuse you have had to endure." Grantaire whispered, his breath caressing the other man's skin, sending a shiver down his spine.

Enjolras sat back. 

"You don't have to-"

"You need to understand that it doesn't make you the person you are today."

"I know that. I don't let it affect me. My parents have always hated my passions for equality. They are Conservative. My left-wing beliefs are ridiculous to them and it is perfectly fine. I know that their abuse is wrong and I know I shouldn't stand for it. I don't. But there is nothing I can do." Enjolras said. 

"But-"

"People are dying, Grantaire." He said, his tone stern. "People are dying because they do not have the money that they need to survive. The country is in political unrest. My parents despising me for my beliefs just proves my belief further - that our political state cannot be cured if hate is still the driving force of our Government." 

Grantaire smiled. He was such a selfless man. 

"Emeric, that does not mean that you have to withstand the abuse." 

"Please don't use my first name." Enjolras said, cringing. 

"Why not?" He asked, shuffling closer to him, their knees touching. "It embodies you perfectly. You are a leader. You will lead the way to an equal society." He said, pushing the curls behind Enjolras' ear. He ran his finger across his face, marking the bruises and wiping the drying tears away. He moved forward, his mouth hovering over Enjolras'. "And I love you." 

Enjolras pushed Grantaire back, the smaller man falling against the wall. Enjolras' body wrapped itself around Grantaire, his lips softly landing on the other man's. Their eyes closed, their breathing slowing as they collapsed into the kiss. Enjolras had never felt so alive, his heart beating fast in his chest. He had never allowed himself to feel such love. 

But he did love Grantaire. 

Grantaire's hand cradled the back of Enjolras' neck, his fingers lacing through his blonde curls and his lungs grasping for breath. Enjolras pulled away, quickly. 

"Sorry-" Grantaire said, simply. He was flustered, his entire body shaking. This couldn't be reality anymore. 

"Don't apologise." Enjolras said, grinning. Enjolras' teeth were white; his smile genuine. 

"You are-" Grantaire said. 

"You took care of me, René. You didn't have to do that. You have continued to support me despite not believing in anything that I stand for." He spoke, his voice warm with gratitude. "Grantaire, you don't believe in my causes. And I have made you feel inferior at our meetings... but I appreciate your belief in me." 

Grantaire blinked. 

"I didn't realise. I am pathetic at human interaction and feelings between people. And I had no idea that you felt anything for me. I don't deserve it."

Grantaire laughed. He knew that. Of course he did. Loving Enjolras meant that he could never expect anything back and he had learnt to accept that. So this was insane. 

"Enjolras, you do not have to explain yourself to me of all people." 

"Please don't put yourself down." Enjolras said, lacing his hands into Grantaire's. "You keep doing that and I - I partly blame myself. You are strong, René. You have always stood by me despite my coldness." 

"Because I love you-"

"I don't deserve your love." 

"You do." Grantaire said. "You tell me not to put myself down, Emeric, but you seem to be unable to believe that you are strong and inspiring and passionate and deserving of my affection." 

"I already know that I sound like a victim of abuse. I know that I am acting like the typical, helpless victim. But I don't let them define me, Grantaire. The abuse has nothing to do with this-"

"What do you mean?" He sat back, furrowing his eyebrows. 

Enjolras felt sick. He had never admitted it out loud before. He had never had cause to. Enjolras had allowed himself to forget about the reality of the situation. He felt his stomach churn as he stared at the brunette sat in front of him; the man that he had found a genuine attraction to. He was a man that he genuinely found himself excited to see. And he couldn't explain it but he liked him. 

But Enjolras was not a normal person. 

He did not like romance. He did not like love. And he did not like to admit it to himself but the idea of sexual relations made his skin crawl. 

He felt his eyes prick with tears. 

"Emeric, what is it?"

"I - I don't like sex." Enjolras admitted, his body allowing his eyes to flood. "I mean - I do not feel anything for it. And I know what that makes me-"

Grantaire watched as Enjolras shivered, his body incapable of stopping his mind from running away with itself. He placed his hand on Enjolras' heart, impulsively. 

"It is alright." He said, calmly. "That is fine." 

"But-"

"No, Apollo, it's alright." 

"Really?" 

"Feeling no sexual attraction is normal. It may not feel like it is, but I get it. I know what you mean. It makes no difference being attracted to a man or a woman, or both or neither. Whatever is fine by me." 

He was speaking directly from his heart. And Enjolras could hear the genuine sincerity in his voice. 

Grantaire smiled, meeting his eyes.

Enjolras allowed the words to settle into his ears, his mind sinking as his heart fluttered at the acceptance of Grantaire. He had always thought the man to be incapable of understanding anything. But he understood, Grantaire was just respectful. 

"I am in love with you." He said, simply. 

Enjolras felt his heart stop. He studied Grantaire and noticed how beautiful he looked. His bright blue eyes shone in the light and he looked at Enjolras with such adoration. Grantaire was a simple man. He tilted his head, confused about what Enjolras was looking at. 

"You are attractive-" 

"Oh, stop it." Grantaire rolled his eyes. 

"No, I mean it. I never understood what Marius meant-"

"Blimey, don't compare me to Cosette." Grantaire pushed Enjolras, laughing. Enjolras landed on his back, wincing in pain but not minding too much as Grantaire placed his lips onto his mouth. "I've heard enough about her beauty to write a whole novel."

"No, I am not. But I-"

"You don't have to do this." 

"I want to." Enjolras smiled, sitting to stare into his eyes. "I didn't appreciate it before but - you are sweet." 

"You are very attractive." Grantaire said, his mouth running away with itself. Enjolras looked down at their interlocked hands and laughed. He had never thought of himself as attractive and he had never been attracted to anyone. But Grantaire's fingers being interlocked with his made his heart flutter.

This was new. And it was exciting.

"Where are your parents?" Enjolras asked, lying down next to Grantaire and resting his head beside him, wanting to forget about the pain that was bruising in the side of his face.

Grantaire felt his voice get lost in his throat. He hadn't thought about his family in so long. He didn't intend to ever again. 

"I would rather not." 

"Okay. I respect that." Enjolras said. He had wanted to hear those words from his friends before. He understood that feeling more than anyone - that feeling where he didn't want to speak about his parents. Combeferre and Courfeyrac would always ask. They'd always want to know how Enjolras was feeling and if he was coping with the pain, to know if he was going to finally allow himself to breakdown over the abuse that he has endured. 

Then it struck him. He saw the denial in Grantaire's eyes that he knew all too well. He had felt it for his entire life. His parents did love him deep down, regardless of their political ideologies. Grantaire's eyes were filled with the same embarrassment and shame. 

Grantaire felt Enjolras' eyes on him. He could see the blonde's knowing look. He knew what he was thinking.

"Apollo, I don't want to talk about it." 

"I'm not forcing you to." He said. 

Grantaire sighed. He hated that he was going to say what he was about to say. But he couldn't stop himself.

"You are. You're doing that thing with your eyes that people do-"

"I'm not." Enjolras said, closing his eyes. He wanted to help the smaller man forget about the matter. He shuffled closer, putting his finger to Grantaire's lip. "You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to." 

Grantaire faltered. Enjolras really was impossible. He watched as the blonde lay back down, his head heavy.

"My dad walked out on my mum when I was young. And my mum tries so hard to - to work for me and my sister. But she - she just gets stressed and I know that I can be a better son but I just don't know how. Does that make sense?"

Enjolras sat back up. 

"I just want to be the son that she can be proud of, you know? But I always manage to screw it up and ruin whatever chance we have of fixing our relationship." 

Enjolras sat up, his eyes meeting Grantaire. 

"I had no idea." He said.

Grantaire just smiled. 

"Look, it's fine. I don't speak to her much. And that's fine. It's a broken relationship anyway and it's all my fault. And that's fine."

"Do you not mis-"

"No, I don't miss her." Grantaire snapped.

"I was - I was going to ask if you missed chicken." Enjolras smirked, in jest. Grantaire burst into laughter.

"Why? Do you?" 

"No." Enjolras pulled a scorned face, grinning. 

Grantaire rolled his eyes, digging his head into his neck.

"She should be proud." Enjolras said, breaking their silence. 

"Wha-"

"Your mother - she should be proud of you." Enjolras smiled, resting his head on Grantaire's shoulder. "She's raised a selfless and tolerant son. And he's exceptionally good at taking care of sick people." 

"He's had the practice." Grantaire winked. He didn't want to extend on it but his mother was an alcoholic. He had spent most of his childhood taking care of a broken woman. And he was proud of himself for achieving that. But he always said the wrong things. And she had pushed him away.

Enjolras let the comment pass, noticing Grantaire's dismay at the topic. He pressed a light kiss onto his cheek and collapsed into the hold of the smaller brunette, wrapped in the duvet. 

He forgot about the pain that his parents had caused him and focused on the love that he felt surrounded by then instead, melting into his hold. 

***

Courfeyrac lay back in his chair, resting his feet on top of Combeferre's knees. The taller brunette took a mouthful of water and swallowed it hard, almost choking when he saw Enjolras walk into the bar. He sat up, pushing Courfeyrac's legs off of him and making the brunette fall onto the floor. He snarled, laughing.

"You need to calm down, 'Ferre."

"He's been hit again. I can tell." 

"How? How do you know that?" 

"Look at his eyes, Courf. He was getting better." He said, rushing over. Courfeyrac stood too, racing to stand beside his best friends. 

"Before you start to worry, he's fine." Grantaire said, throwing his hands up in surrender. Enjolras placed his hand onto his shoulder, tapping it lightly.

"It's alright, I can speak." He said, smiling. 

Combeferre noticed the exchange of the touch, staring at him with a small sense of pride. Combeferre saw everything, it was like his special power. 

"'Ferre, I don't need you to do anything for me about this." 

"Enj, my parents can speak-"

"No. It's fine. Thank you." 

"Did you hear that?" Courfeyrac teased, nudging him. "He doesn't need you to interfere." 

"Alright." Combeferre nodded. 

"Where is everyone else?" Enjolras asked, setting his poster up on the wall. Grantaire studied the expression on Courfeyrac's face, seeing him squirm at the question.

"They're late." He said, simply.

Combeferre shot him a warning glance. 

"I told them not to come." Combeferre said, his voice sure of itself. He had done the right thing.

Courfeyrac shuffled, uncomfortable with the inevitable tension that was about to follow. Enjolras turned, his eyebrows raised and his mouth pursed. 

"Why?"

"Well - you see - I - we, Courfeyrac and I shared a common-"

"Please don't drag me into this. This was all you." Courfeyrac scowled, his eyes darting to Grantaire in a desperate plea for help. 

"What have you done?" Grantaire asked, crossing the room. 

"Look. I thought I was doing you a favour, Enjolras, really. I didn't know, I didn't realise-"

Enjolras stood still, scanning his friend's posture. He seemed concerned, genuinely shaking. And Combeferre never got nervous. 

"You called my Grandma, didn't you?"

"Please don't be mad. I know I should have left it well alone but she's always so worried about you and I just wanted to help. She called him. Right away. She was furious. And - well, I cancelled the session today because I didn't know what she was going to do. But she said that we should be here without our friends. So - yeah." 

Courfeyrac hit his head against the wall. 

"You didn't tell me that bit." He growled. "You just said that we'd be speaking to Enj." 

"She's coming here, isn't she?" Enjolras asked, his face straight. Combeferre shuffled, his eyes darting to the floor. "'Ferre, I'm not mad. I just need to know." 

"Your grandma isn't coming here, no." 

"What have you done?" Grantaire asked, confused. He looked around, studying Enjolras as his face dropped.

"Oh, Combeferre." Courfeyrac scowled. 

Enjolras swallowed hard.

"He's going to come, isn't he?" Combeferre said, his feet curling, nervously. 

Grantaire sat down. He lifted a glass to his forehead, feeling his body temperature rise. He scowled, blinking, allowing the cold glass to cool him down slightly.

"It's alright." Enjolras said, giving a little nod and allowing himself to sit down beside Grantaire. 

"It's not-" 

"No, it is. It's alright." Enjolras said. He took Grantaire's hand and pushed himself closer, resting his head on Grantaire's shoulder. Grantaire put the glass down and wrapped his arms around the blonde. 

Combeferre smiled. He grinned, seeing how secure Enjolras looked in Grantaire's presence. He had always known that Enjolras felt something different for Grantaire.

Courfeyrac frowned, his eyes narrowing at the sight of Enjolras being so close to someone else.

"Am I missing something here?" 

"My father will be coming-" Enjolras said. 

"No, I mean this. What's this about?" He pointed at them both.

"Is now the time?" Combeferre asked, shaking his head. "Really, Courf?" 

"Emeric!" 

Enjolras jumped up and out of Grantaire's arms, his eyes scanning the room to see where the voice came from. Grantaire fell backwards, hitting his head against the wall. He stood too, confused. Combeferre stood to attention too.

"Oh, Emeric." The blonde woman raced into the room. She looked stern, her face scrunched up. She was pretty, Grantaire noticed. She had light, bright blue eyes just like Enjolras' but they were darker round the edges, and colder somehow. Enjolras always looked very ambitious, his eyes were always sparkling with a passion for change. She wore a tight business dress, her posture almost as tight as the blue dress that caved her slender physique. "Look, your Father is not happy with you." 

Enjolras backed away from her, his mind unable to comprehend the fact that his mother was standing in the same room as Grantaire. He felt like combusting.

"Did you hear me, Emeric?" She asked. Her voice was deep and stern. And Grantaire could sense the coldness that she felt toward her son. But he could also see that she cared from him more than she wanted to admit. "Emeric?" She said, clicking in his face. "Is this your local bar?"

She looked around, her nose turning up at the smell of the stale alcohol.

"This is the student bar." He replied, bluntly. 

She turned to Combeferre and Courfeyrac, smiling. 

"I spoke to your parents the other days, well done on your brilliant results."

Combeferre gave her a small smile, leaving it up to Courfeyrac to reply. When he didn't, however, he took it upon himself and forced out a coughed, "thank you." 

"And who is this?" She turned to Grantaire, looking him up and down. Grantaire furrowed his eyebrows before offering her his hand. She went to shake it.

"Emeric Enjolras." A deep voice full of hate growled, making Grantaire jump and pull his hand back. He swallowed, his eyes averting to Enjolras. He stood frozen, his face straight. 

"Your parents are calling you both." The tall, broad man snarled at Combeferre and Courfeyrac. The two of them jumped, their throats unable to say anything. Grantaire noticed that they both nodded, smiling. 

"They are? Okay, we'll go and - answer them." Courfeyrac laughed, nervously. 

Grantaire found himself wondering whether Enjolras' father had ever laid a finger on them. They both seemed on edge. And it was disheartening to see that they both looked so unable to do anything but do as he said. They raced out of the room. Courfeyrac gave Enjolras a sorrowful glare, his heart sinking at having to leave them. 

They were so weak against him. They had tried so hard to help Enjolras escape in the past. And it worked sometimes. 

Combeferre felt himself give Grantaire a small smile, wishing him luck. He knew Enjolras would be fine so long as Grantaire was still in the room. 

"Right - now that they have both gone I am going to-" He lifted his hand as Enjolras backed away, his eyes darting to the floor. 

"Darling! This is Emeric's friend." 

Enjolras' father froze, his hand dropping. 

"Apologies, I didn't see you there." He gave Grantaire a twisted grin. 

Grantaire wanted so much to give a sarcastic comment in response but found himself incapable of it. 

"And who might you be?" 

Grantaire went to speak, opening his mouth with a clear intention. 

"This is my friend René." Enjolras said, cutting him off before he could respond. 

"René, I do apologise but my son has never once mentioned you." 

If Grantaire didn't know the situation he would have been hurt. But he wasn't surprised that Enjolras had never mentioned him before. He had hated him after all. And he evidently didn't have a close relationship with his father.

"Would you excuse me and my family?" He asked, his voice pretending to be friendly.

"I'm just going to speak to my father." Enjolras said, turning to Grantaire. His eyes were red, they were stinging. He was shaking too. And Grantaire felt so helpless.

"Actually, I have to stay." Grantaire said, simply. He wasn't afraid of this sad excuse of a man. 

"Excuse me?" 

"I - I work here." Grantaire lied, quickly coming up with some excuse not to leave Enjolras alone with his parents. "I was told that I can't leave the premises if there are customers, you see." 

Enjolras felt his heart stop. Grantaire was playing with fire.

"I do beg your pardon but I need to speak to my family in privacy." He said, gritting his teeth. Enjolras knew he wouldn't stand for it.

"Yeah, well, apologies Mr. Enjolras-" Grantaire replied, his voice cold. "-but my job requires me to stay here." 

"Father - René is my friend." Enjolras choked. 

"Right." His father crossed his arms, growling. "And who is René?"

Enjolras swallowed. 

"I'm a friend." Grantaire said, reaching his hand out to Enjolras' mother. She took it with hesitation. 

"René is my friend." 

"Yes, but why? He looks like a -"

"Do not insult Grantaire, Father." Enjolras narrowed his eyes, threatening his father without saying anything. 

"You will do anything to make us angry." He said, through a small. Enjolras sighed, wanting to hit his head against the wall really hard.

"I'm tired." Enjolras was being honest. "I'm tired of the constant arguing and of the abuse that you throw my way. I am tired of the manipulation and the constant need to control my life." He raved, his voice stern. Grantaire looked proud, his eyes darting to see Enjolras' father's fists clench.

"And I - Grantaire is a good friend of mine." Enjolras was shaking now, his legs no longer able to hold him. He walked to stand beside Grantaire, taking hold of his hand. "He is my - er - how do you say? Boyfriend."

Grantaire's breathing hitched in his throat. Of all the stories that he had heard about Enjolras' parents he knew that they wouldn't accept a gay son. He knew that he was really defying them here. And he was scared for him.

"Boyfr - you will do anything to defy us." His father gritted his teeth. 

Enjolras glared at him, his hand slipping into Grantaire's without hesitation. Grantaire smiled, resting his head on the wall behind him. 

"Father, I am not your little boy anymore." He said, his chest broad. "I never was yours to control." 

"You are my son." He put his foot down. His wife shuffled, her bright eyes closing as she walked backwards into the wall. 

"My son is a homosexual." She mouthed, trying to understand what was happening. Grantaire looked at her. "He is a - a homosexual." 

"I don't think I want to see you anymore."

"Excuse me?" 

"Until you find a way to accept that I am not your ideal Conservative, royalist son then I do not want to seen you. I do not want you to lay another finger on me." Enjolras' chest was broad, his voice steadying. "And I am not homosexual."

Grantaire felt his heart stop, turning to look at Enjolras. They had researched sexualities the previous night after Enjolras' confession.

"I love Grantaire but I am not a homosexual." Enjolras said. "I am asexual." 

"Asex-" His mother looked confused. "I don't understand-"

"He's not normal." His father said, his voice cold. 

Enjolras felt a lump form in his throat, his limbs flopping to the side of him. He dropped Grantaire's hand, his eyes averting to the floor.

Grantaire wanted nothing more than to comfort him and hug him. But he couldn't find the willpower to do that. Instead, he took a step forward toward the taller, older, fuller man and squared up to him.

"Your son is not 'normal', no." Grantaire mouthed, his voice full of passion. Enjolras felt a sting in his chest at the words. "Your son is a good man, he is passionate and he will make this world a better place with his ambition and good nature." Grantaire had never spoken so passionately about anything. "And your oppression of his talent and drive is despicable and so typical of a right-wing politician. Emeric is a threat. You are threatened by his positivity, it frightens you. And so you hit him and tear him down." He took another step closer to the man. "Emeric is stronger than you ever will be. And that terrifies you. He may not be normal but at least he's not a racist, misogynistic, frightened and abusive man that can't see the appeal of a good willed and driven man." 

Enjolras' parents said nothing, they just stared obnoxiously at the brunette man. 

Emeric was frozen in his place too, his mind trying to comprehend the words that had just been spoken so passionately from a man that he had misjudged as a cynic.

He felt his heart race, his mind pushing him to take a step forward. He closed his eyes and leant forward, allowing his lips to press against Grantaire's, forgetting momentarily that his parents were present. Grantaire sank into the kiss, his hands reaching up to stroke the cheeks of the blonde. Enjolras wrapped his arms around the smaller man, cocooning him in a tight hold. He never wanted to let go.

"I think you should go." He said, finally moving away from Grantaire. 

"Emeric - please don't shut us out."

"You shut me out long ago." Enjolras said, facing her while still holding Grantaire's hand tight. "But you will never shut me up."

Enjolras' father was speechless, unable to say anything about the situation. He was astonished that the boy Grantaire had had the guts to stand up to him. That never happened. 

"You cannot shut us out."

"He doesn't need you." Grantaire said, his fingers lacing into Enjolras'. "He never did." 

"You are just his toy-" His father said, raising his voice and stepping closer to Grantaire. "You are nothing to him-"

Enjolras stepped in, putting his body in between Grantaire and his father and standing up for himself for the first time in his life. 

"Go." Enjolras said.

His mother's eyes welled with tears. 

"You can't push us away." She cried. "We love you." 

"You can't love somebody and want to control them." Enjolras said, his eyes heavy too. 

Grantaire put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, rubbing him in a soothing manner. 

Enjolras took a deep breath in and stepped closer to his mother, facing her directly.

"I don't want to see you until you can accept me for who I am." 

"We will cut off your funds-"

"Stop this." She screamed, pushing him back. "He is our son." 

"He's no son of mine." He snarled, turning to walk out of the door. Enjolras watched him walk away. 

"I can't-" 

"Just go." Enjolras said, his voice harsh. His mother took one last glance at her son before walking out of the bar. Enjolras felt his knees buckle, his legs no longer able to hold him. He collapsed onto the floor. Grantaire fell down with him, kneeling opposite him and holding him. 

He said nothing, too afraid that he would say the wrong thing.

"Aren't you going to say something?" 

Grantaire gave it some thought, his mind racing to think of the right thing to say. Then he grinned.

"So, I'm your boyfriend then?" He winked.

Enjolras blinked at him, blankly.

"Really?" Enjolras asked.

"I'll take that as a yes then."

"Take it as you wish." Enjolras winked, making Grantaire's heart jump. 

He had never seen Enjolras flirt or wink with anyone and to know that he was winking at him made his heart happy. 

"Thank you for that." Enjolras said, looking him directly in the eyes. "I couldn't have done that without you."

"That was all you." Grantaire said, resting his hand on Enjolras' heart. "I did nothin-"

Enjolras planted a kiss onto his lips again, cutting him off. 

"I love you." He pulled back, brushing the brown curl from Grantaire's face.

"I love you too, Apollo." 

Enjolras rolled his eyes.

"You ruined it." 

"We best go and see your two flatmates." Grantaire said, changing the subject with a laugh.

"They'll think we've been murdered." Enjolras said. Grantaire grinned. "You didn't have to stay. He could have hurt you."

"But he didn't." Grantaire said. "And he would have hurt you if I didn't. It was a risk I had to take." 

"I don't deserve you."

"You deserve nothing but love, Emeric." 

Enjolras felt his body fall forward, his arms wrapping themselves around Grantaire.

He had never known love before. But now he understood it, and he was content with his life. He was free.

And he was in love. The only sickness he would have from now on would be the sickness of Grantaire's love. And he had nothing but love to give in return.

For he was stubbornly in love with Grantaire. 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all of the comments and kudos on this story. I really enjoyed writing it (even if it did hurt to write Enj so hurt). 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed it too. Please leave any comments or questions you have and I'll respond when I can.
> 
> Thank you again for reading.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I will post the next chapter in a few days. 
> 
> Please comment any questions or opinions you have and I'll be sure to respond. 
> 
> Thanks again!


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